


Christmas Morning

by sci_fis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Rimming, Sex Toys, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:52:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sci_fis/pseuds/sci_fis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bit of a PWP for Xmas. Happy holidays!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Morning

They didn't have a tree that year because they only stumbled in to the motel room late in the night on Christmas Eve; also, Dean was barely conscious, his clothes so bloodstained that Sam had to hide him in the car until he got the keys to the motel room.

“S’mmy?” Dean said at some point during the night, his voice slurred.

“I’m here, Dean.”

Dean acknowledged the response with a grunt and didn't speak again until the morning was creeping in through the cheap flowered curtains above his bed.

“Rise and shine,” Sam said with a cheer he didn't really feel, setting donuts and coffee on the rickety table.

“Wha’ happened?” Dean sat with his head in his hands. His shorts were riding low in the back, revealing a narrow strip of skin between the elastic band and the hem of his too-small t-shirt. 

“We get hammered?” Dean went on.

“In a manner of speaking.” Sam pulled the top off his cup of coffee and inhaled the steaming fragrance. “You got thrown into a wall.”

“Explains a lot.” Dean looked up and grinned, and a small surge of relief went through Sam, warming him up better than the coffee. “You bring enough to share with the class, princess?”

Sam handed Dean his coffee and sat down beside him, his knee knocking against Dean’s. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Dean nudged him. “Go get my bag.”

“What?”

“Just do it, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam said reflexively but got up anyway. It was a little habit they had, spoiling the one who was hurt worse. 

Dean put his coffee on the stand and rummaged through his bag before pulling out a neatly-wrapped paper package.

Sam stared at the object that fell out of the wrapping. “Um, is this what I think it is?”

“Never seen a cock ring before, sweetheart?” Dean’s grin was pure evil.

“I fucking hate you,” Sam said, leaning in for a kiss.

Dean smirked against his mouth. “I know you do. Wanna take it for a spin?”

“Dean, you’re hurt.”

“So take care of me.” 

Sam couldn't argue with that logic. “Yeah,” he said, voice gentler than he'd intended. “I’ll take care of you.”

Minutes later he was naked and panting against Dean’s cock, licking around the ring, his wrists bound behind his back with a soft scarf. His hole was planted firmly over Dean’s mouth, Dean’s big hands holding his ass cheeks apart for Dean’s mouth.

“Taste so fucking good, little brother,” Dean said against his hole, raising one hand and bringing it down in a sharp smack against Sam’s ass. Sam gasped and licked his tongue up the straining length of Dean’s cock in retaliation, and Dean gave as good as he got, stabbing his tongue into Sam’s ass and fucking him with it, making Sam writhe in pleasure.

“See if I let you come anytime soon,” he panted, rubbing his cheek against Dean’s cock as Dean continued to eat him out with abandon.

“Not the one who’s tied up here,” Dean said, sounding both amused and aroused. One of his hands slid into Sam’s hair and tugged his head up, forcing him to look into the large mirror facing the bed. Thank goodness for cheap motels. “Look at yourself, Sammy. Look at us.”

Sam looked, and the sight made him push his neglected cock harder against Dean’s chest.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Dean encouraged. “You’re gonna come like this, aren't you? Come like a good little bitch without a hand on you, just my tongue in your ass and my cock in your mouth.”

And Sam did, shuddering with pleasure. Christmas was shaping up to be pretty good.


End file.
